


Keptin

by Black_Crystal_Dragon



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, M/M, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek), puppy on the bridge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-14
Updated: 2009-07-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7994287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Crystal_Dragon/pseuds/Black_Crystal_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sulu gives Chekov a puppy while on shore leave, but Chekov doesn't want to leave it behind. He tries to hide it in his quarters, but it follows him around. He tries to keep it a secret from the Captain because he thinks Kirk will get rid of it on him ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keptin

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a prompt at the ST_XI_kink meme and posted to my LJ. Imported to AO3 in August 2016.
> 
> The summary is a direct quote from the prompt. Apparently even when I write crack I take it seriously. _Please_ point out any glaring errors!

Risa meant something different for each member of the _Enterprise_ crew. For Pavel Chekov it meant seventy-two gloriously uninterrupted hours with his boyfriend.

Or at least, that was what he had expected from his shore leave. When he woke on the morning of the second day, however, he found Sulu’s half of their shared bed empty and not so much as a note of explanation. Pouting, Chekov tried to go back to sleep, since it was still early in the morning and he was supposed to be relaxing – having lie-ins and such – but it was impossible. He couldn’t stop wondering where Sulu had gone, and what he might be doing. He couldn’t think why he had left in the first place, when he had seemed so eager to spend every moment together just the night before.

Eventually, he got up and went to take a shower, because lying around moping in a bed that felt too big without someone else in it was not the best way to spend his shore leave. If Sulu wanted some time alone that was fine, he told himself firmly as he scrubbed at his scalp. He would just have to take advantage of Sulu being away. He could have as much fun on his own as the next person. Probably far more fun than Sulu himself was having right now. Without him.

Chekov got out of the shower and snatched his towel from the rack, swiping a hand across the condensation on the mirror to reveal his reflection. He stared himself down, telling himself on no uncertain terms that it _was not_ a big deal and he _was not_ upset that Sulu had gone off without him.

He dried himself off and got dressed as quickly as he could, running through a mental list of things to do on Risa as he did so. He had just about finished running a comb through his curls and decided that he ought to go down onto the beach for a swim when he heard the pneumatic hiss of the hotel room’s outer door.

He put the comb down, gave himself a stern look in the mirror and went to the bathroom door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. It was Sulu, of course. Chekov had time to see that he was crouching beside the bed, but as soon as the other man heard the door he straightened up hurriedly and turned, smiling broadly.

“Pavel! Hey. You’re up early.”

“Where have you been?” Chekov asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Just out,” Sulu told him, walking across and cupping Chekov’s face in his hands so that he could kiss him gently on the lips. “Good morning.”

“Out where?” Chekov asked, genuinely curious and still a little peeved that Sulu had not thought to take him along. Sulu chuckled and leaned in again, this time to kiss the end of his nose.

“I thought I’d get you a little surprise,” he said, letting his hands fall to his sides. As he went back towards the bed, he explained, “I know it’s past your birthday and I already got you a present, but …” he trailed off, sitting down on the corner of the bed and reaching down to something Chekov couldn’t see. “I kept thinking about something you said yesterday, on the way here, and – well …”

Sulu bent down further, and when he straightened up he was holding something small and furry in his arms. Chekov took a cautious step closer. The creature wriggled against Sulu’s chest, then lifted its head. Sulu gave him a nervous smile.

“Is that,” Chekov whispered, then stopped to lick his lips and pull himself together. “Where on earth did you get a puppy, Hikaru?”

“You just have to know where to look,” the other man grinned, looking down at the puppy, which was now trying to squirm out of his arms.

“Is for me?” Chekov asked, his usually good English failing him a little in his surprise. Sulu nodded, his face becoming slightly nervous.

Chekov could remember passing a pet shop on their way to the hotel the day before. They had stopped to look in at the window full of strange domesticated creatures from many different worlds, and he had mentioned in passing that he had always wanted a dog as a child, but due to his mother’s allergies had been eternally stuck with goldfish. He had never imagined that Sulu would actually buy him a puppy – to make up for it, he supposed. He swallowed hard and staggered across to the bed to sit down. Still nervous, Sulu held out the puppy towards him.

“You want to say hello to him?”

Chekov nodded, a slow smile starting to bloom across his face. He reached out and gently took hold of the puppy around its middle – _his_ middle, he corrected himself – and placed him carefully on his lap. The puppy’s sandy fur was long and silky, his large, black eyes were bright, and his nose was cold when he pressed his muzzle into Chekov’s palm in an obvious attempt to initiate petting. He chuckled and scratched the dog behind its floppy ears.

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Chekov grinned. The puppy twisted his head to lick affectionately at his wrist. Chekov looked up at Sulu. “Does he have a name?”

“Nope – you get to pick,” Sulu told him. He was obviously pleased that Chekov had accepted the gift with such delight, but after a moment he frowned. “Only, please don’t pick something Russian that I can’t pronounce …”

Chekov laughed and looked down at the puppy; as he watched, he rolled over onto his back and waited for his belly to be scratched. He shook his head, still smiling. “He does not look Russian.”

He considered for a moment, thinking hard of potential names. After a moment, he took a breath to speak but immediately stopped and shook his head. Sulu touched his arm. “What?”

“You will think it is stupid,” Chekov replied, shaking his head. “It _is_ a little stupid …”

“C’mon, tell me,” Sulu prompted, reaching across to stroke the dog some more while he talked. Chekov let a small smile dawn across his face.

“OK. I was thinking – Keptin?”

For a moment, Sulu just looked from him to the puppy. Then he laughed and asked, “After Kirk?”

Chekov nodded, starting to blush. “It’s the colour of his fur – it is the same as the Keptin’s, and –”

“OK,” Sulu laughed, leaning across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “‘Keptin’ it is.” He reached down the side of the bed again. He lifted a large paper bag, crammed with purchases that Chekov assumed were for their new pet. “While you two get acquainted, I’m going to get this room puppy-proofed.”

“Thank you,” Chekov said, reaching out and placing a hand on Sulu’s arm to stop him from getting up before pulling him close again to kiss him thoroughly. Ten seconds later, the newly-christened Keptin got bored of not being the centre of attention and jumped off Chekov’s lap. By the time they parted, he had already found Sulu’s slippers and started to chew.

***

Three days’ shore leave was not long enough, Chekov decided when their seventy-two hours were up and they had to return to the _Enterprise_. He loved his job, of course, and he was very proud to be serving aboard the Starfleet flagship under a man he greatly admired – but Risa was beautiful and he liked having nothing to do but laze around in the sun with Sulu and play with Keptin.

Together, they walked to the agreed rendezvous point, Sulu carrying their bags and Chekov carrying his pet. As they walked, he cuddled the puppy a little closer than was strictly necessary, running his fingers through the sandy-gold fur and pressing kisses to the top of his head.

Keptin was going to cause problems once they got on board – if they could even get him on board in the first place. The captain has decided several months ago that his ship was no place for pets, after an unfortunate and rather embarrassing incident involving tribbles. It was understandable, but it also meant that taking the dog on board was against the rules. If the person transporting them refused to beam Keptin aboard, this would have to be goodbye.

Sulu had tried to convince him that no one would say no to him, telling him that the entire crew – with the obvious exception of Sulu himself – looked on him as an honorary little brother. He had insisted that they would bend over backwards to make him happy, so getting Keptin on board wouldn’t be a problem. He had then said that it would be easy to hide the puppy in their quarters. Chekov wasn’t so sure about any of those assertions, but he didn’t want to leave Keptin behind – not when he was a present from Sulu, his first real pet, and quite possibly the most adorable creature Chekov had ever seen.

At the rendezvous point, Chekov pressed his communicator and said, “Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Chekov reporting. Permission to beam aboard?”

“Granted, lad. Just the two of you, is it?”

It was Scotty, to Chekov’s relief. Scotty liked animals, and didn’t like the new no pets rule. Before The Tribble Incident, as they had taken to calling it, he had owned a pet tribble – a tribble which had sat quietly in its cage while its fellows chewed through the _Enterprise_ ’s wiring and got into her most sensitive parts and made themselves a nuisance. After they had cleared the guilty tribbles out, Scotty had told Kirk on no uncertain terms that he was doing no repair work whatsoever until he was told he could keep his perfectly innocent pet. When he realised just how serious Scotty was, Kirk had agreed.

If Scotty was willing to let his beloved _Enterprise_ suffer, even just a little, for the sake of his pet tribble, he might just understand. Chekov cleared his throat. “Mister Scott?”

“Scotty. Yes?”

“Hypothetically, if I had a dog with me, he would count as a third person, yes?”

“Hypothetically,” Scotty said slowly, and Chekov knew that the cogs were turning inside his head, putting two and two together. “Is that three to beam up, then?”

“Yes, please,” Chekov replied in a very small voice. A couple of seconds passed, then the familiar sensation of beaming took over and the next moment Chekov was standing in Transporter Room One. Scotty was alone at the console, and when he saw the puppy he stood up and came over, grinning.

“Hello there, little fella,” he said, reaching out to pet him. Keptin snuffled at his hand, then gave him a lick.

“Thank you, Miste– uh, Scotty, for bringing him aboard,” Chekov said while Scotty stroked the top of the puppy’s head.

“Well, he’s not going to do any harm, now, is he?” Scotty chuckled. He looked down at the dog again. “Are you?”

“You haven’t seen what he did to my slippers,” Sulu complained, although he was smiling good-naturedly as he spoke. The puppy barked loudly – almost indignantly – in response and Chekov hastily grabbed his muzzle, holding it shut.

“Shh! You must be quiet!” he hissed into the dog’s ear. “Hikaru is only teasing. He didn’t like those slippers anyway.”

He shot Sulu a glare over the top of the puppy’s head. Scotty laughed at them, shaking his head. “Well, your secret’s safe enough with me, don’t you worry. But if he chews through any wiring in your quarters, I’m not going to be impressed.”

“He won’t,” Chekov promised. “He is good dog.”

The puppy’s answering bark was muffled this time by Chekov’s hand, but made it quite clear that he wholeheartedly agreed with his master’s last statement.

***

The plan was a simple one and in theory it was perfect. In practice, at 0750 hours the next morning, it didn’t go quite so smoothly.

“I don’t like leaving him,” Chekov said, hovering in the doorway and watching the puppy gambolling about after his favourite ball, which Sulu had thrown as a distraction just a moment before. “You’re sure he will be OK?”

“He’ll be fine, Pavel, you’ll see,” Sulu promised, tugging at his sleeve. “We made sure there aren’t any access panels he can get into, he has plenty of water and more than enough toys to play with.”

“And you set up the monitor, yes?”

Sulu had promised the night before, when Chekov has started to worry in case something happened to Keptin while they were on duty, that he would fit a security camera in their room and broadcast the feed on a private wavelength so that they could both keep an eye on the dog from their consoles. All he had to do was remember to turn it off when they were in the room.

“Yes,” Sulu sighed, pulling him out of the door and pressing the button to close it. “Come on, we’re already late.”

They made it all the way to the turbolift before something went wrong. Sulu had just pressed the call button when Keptin, realising that he was alone for perhaps the first time in his short life, started barking. Thankfully, the rooms on either side were empty thanks to their occupants sharing Sulu and Chekov’s shift, but there were a few crewmembers in the corridor; all of them came to a halt, looking around in surprise. Chekov blushed and turned his back, trying not to look too furtive.

“They’re going to work out it’s coming from our room,” he whispered, shifting nervously from foot to foot. More people were coming along the corridor now, listening to the strange noise.

“He’ll stop in a minute,” Sulu hissed, but Chekov knew that was just wishful thinking.

Keptin did stop after a few more barks, but the pause was only momentary. A couple of seconds later, he began to howl. To Chekov, it was the most miserable sound he could remember hearing. He turned and looked pleadingly at Sulu. “Hikaru …”

“He’s fine, Pavel” the other man tried, although Chekov could see quite plainly that he too wanted to go back. Beside them, the turbolift doors opened, but neither of them noticed. One of the people in the corridor turned to look at them.

“Guys, I think it’s coming from your room …”

Chekov gave up. He walked briskly back down the corridor and pressed the button to open the door, crouching down immediately. A moment later, Keptin launched himself out of the room, scrambling to lick Chekov’s face. He scooped the puppy into his arms to quieten him down, hugging him close. The puppy squirmed, pressing its cold nose against his neck and whining pathetically in a manner that told Chekov that he really did not want to be left behind. Chekov squeezed the puppy gently. “It’s OK, I won’t leave you alone again.”

“Oh, he’s so cute!” one of the redshirted ensigns who had been in the corridor cooed, dropping to her knees beside Chekov. She held out one hand then paused to ask, “May I …?”

“Of course,” Chekov replied, privately relieved that no one had started citing regulation yet. The ensign reached out and scratched the dog behind his ears. When the woman withdrew her hand, the dog twisted in Chekov’s arms, trying to lick her fingers. She giggled nervously and held out her hand, letting the puppy have his display of affection.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

Chekov blushed, wondering just how foolish everyone would think his dog’s name was, and replied quietly, “Keptin.”

The man who had called them back, a member of security if Chekov remembered correctly, laughed at that. “Well he’s a real ladies’ man, I’ll give him that – just like Kirk!”

“You know, he does sort of remind me of the Captain,” said a woman in science-officer-blue, leaning down to get a closer look. “He’s got the same colour fur as his hair, and there’s that mischievous twinkle in his eyes …”

“Hey, yeah!” laughed someone else. They seemed to have gained quite an audience, and still no one was saying anything about getting rid of the dog. In fact, they all seemed quite taken with him, silly name and all. Chekov felt himself beginning to grin.

“We should get to the bridge,” Sulu reminded him, and Chekov climbed to his feet, still cradling Keptin in his arms. There was a murmur of discontent in the small crowd – they obviously wanted to stay and coo over the puppy some more – but they began to disperse regardless until only the security officer and a couple of others remained.

“Are you going to leave him here?” the man asked.

“I don’t think I can do that,” Chekov sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t want him to be miserable – and I don’t want anyone to find him and have him beamed off the ship because he’s making all that noise, since technically he shouldn’t be here …”

“I’m sure the captain would let him stay,” the female science officer said, reaching out to pat the dog on the head. “Sweet little thing like him …”

“Maybe. I do not want to take the chance,” Chekov replied softly. “We will just have to hide him, somehow.”

“On the bridge?” the security officer chuckled. “Good luck with that!”

“We’ll find a way,” Sulu told them, taking Chekov by the elbow and leading him towards the turbolift again. He pressed the call button and the doors slid open immediately, allowing them to step inside. He pressed the button for the bridge and leant back against the wall. “Really? Hiding him on the bridge, with Kirk and Spock _right there_?”

“You’re the one who just said we’d find a way,” Chekov said, smiling sweetly as him. Sulu sighed and shook his head but said nothing.

***

When they arrived on the bridge, by some miracle Kirk was elsewhere, running even later than they were. Spock, however, was at his station and although he seemed engrossed in whatever he was doing there was always the chance that he might look up. Sulu turned hurriedly, blocking Chekov and Keptin from view, and murmured, “If we can get him to your console, we might stand half a chance of keeping him a secret …”

“OK,” Chekov replied in a whisper. He glanced over Sulu’s shoulder and saw Uhura looking curiously at them, one eyebrow raised in a manner reminiscent of Spock. To his horror, she then got up and walked towards them. He swore in Russian; Sulu turned around just in time to come face-to-face with the lieutenant.

“Problem, gentlemen?” she asked, smiling pleasantly. Chekov shoved Keptin against Sulu’s back; the other man took the hint and put both his hands behind his back, taking hold of the puppy as he did so. Chekov stepped out from behind him, wearing his best ‘butter wouldn’t melt’ expression.

“No problem, Lieutenant,” he said brightly, hoping that she would just go back to her station and leave them alone. Chekov wasn’t all that surprised that she did no such thing.

“Uh-huh,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly, although she looked more amused than annoyed. “You’d better get to your stations, then. Right?”

“Um,” said Sulu, and Chekov almost rolled his eyes in exasperation. Suddenly, Sulu squirmed on the spot, gasping in surprise, and by leaning back a little Chekov saw that Keptin had managed to wriggle half out of Sulu’s grip. In a moment, he would be free and running around the bridge. He stepped around behind Sulu to take Keptin from him, but Uhura beat him to it, sidestepping around the helmsman and deftly plucking the puppy from his hands.

Immediately, as if sensing trouble, Keptin stopped trying to escape and whimpered pathetically at her. Chekov swallowed hard. “Lieutenant Uhura, I can explain,” he said in an undertone, glancing furtively at Spock and wondering how everyone on the bridge was still oblivious. “I was going to leave Keptin in my quarters, but he was upset –”

“Wait, you called your dog ‘Captain’?” Uhura asked incredulously. Chekov blinked at her; of all the reactions he might have been expecting, this one hadn’t been on the cards. “Did you name him that because of _our_ Captain?”

“He reminded me of Keptin Kirk,” Chekov said sheepishly, looking down at the floor. Sulu reached out and took his hand, squeezing reassuringly. Suddenly, Uhura began to laugh.

“Oh, that’s classic,” she chuckled, holding the puppy out to Chekov. He whined again as Chekov took him from her, then turned and buried his muzzle in the crook of his elbow, hiding. Uhura laughed again, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “You know, something about that dog reminds me of the captain, too.”

“You’re not going to report him?” Sulu asked in an undertone, sliding an arm around Chekov’s shoulders.

“Of course not,” Uhura told him, turning to go back onto the bridge. “Puppies aren’t tribbles, after all. There’s only one of him, and he’s hardly going to get pregnant.”

She strode back to her console and sat down, flashing Spock a brilliant smile when he glanced up at her. Thankfully, he immediately looked back down at his screen, giving Sulu and Chekov the opportunity they needed to hurry to their positions and settle down. The sight of the puppy made several of the officers on the bridge look their way and mutter quietly to one another, but once Keptin was mostly out of sight on Chekov’s lap they quietened down apparently without complaint and – to Chekov’s relief – without attracting Spock’s attention. Uhura winked at him as she replaced her earpiece.

Five minutes later, the Captain himself arrived on the bridge and sprawled in his chair, letting it swivel from side to side so that he could survey everyone on the bridge. Hurriedly, in a further attempt to disguise Keptin, Chekov grabbed the hem of his gold shirt and pulled it up, shoving the quietly protesting puppy under it. “Shh, Keptin!”

“I wasn’t aware I was making any noise, Mr. Chekov,” Kirk said behind him. Chekov felt a blush rising up the back of his neck and swallowed hard. Kirk sounded more amused than annoyed, but he really didn’t want to draw attention to himself today, not when he had Keptin on his lap, barely out of sight. After a moment, Kirk asked, “Any particular reason why I ought to be quiet, ensign?”

“I thought I heard something, sir?” Chekov said, looking carefully over his shoulder to see if Kirk was going to buy it. Keptin wriggled against his stomach, his paws scrabbling at the material of the shirt as he tried to break free.

“OK,” Kirk said, nodding and giving Chekov a smile. “Everybody quiet a minute, let’s see if we can hear whatever-it-was.”

The bridge fell ominously silent but for the whirring of the computers, and Keptin chose that moment to let out a discontented whimper. Kirk’s eyebrows rose.

“Was that your mystery noise, Chekov?”

“Um,” said Chekov, glancing across at Sulu. The game was up. He was going to have to admit defeat and hand Keptin over.

“It was my earpiece, Captain,” Uhura said suddenly, deflecting attention away from Chekov. “I think it’s malfunctioning. Nothing to worry about.”

“Mystery solved,” Kirk said, flashing Chekov a brilliant smile. Chekov turned back to his console and glanced sideways at Spock, who raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing. He cleared his throat, pulled his chair a little closer to the console and discreetly let Keptin out from under his shirt, hoping against hope that he could keep him still and quiet until Kirk decided he needed to leave the bridge.

***

Kirk decided to take a lunch break at 1200 hours, which was technically against regulations. He was followed into the turbolift by Spock, who was in the middle of listing all the reasons why he ought to remain on the bridge until the end of Alpha Shift and not about to stop until he had finished.

Once they were gone, Chekov breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Keptin didn’t like sitting still, especially for such long periods of time, and as the morning had worn on it had become more and more difficult to hide the puppy from the captain and his first officer. He turned his chair around, figuring that the rest of the bridge crew had already seen the dog and said nothing so it would probably be all right, and set him down on the floor.

Immediately, Keptin scampered across the room to introduce himself to some new people. Chekov watched the bridge crew cooing over him for a moment before he stood and went over to the communications console. “Lieutenant? I wanted to thank you for covering for Keptin …”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said with a smile. Chekov smiled back, then made his way to Sulu’s console, leaning against it and letting out a deep sigh. Sulu swivelled his chair around and patted his knee, offering Chekov a seat and probably a brief cuddle, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think we can hide him indefinitely. He had too much energy – and if he doesn’t want to be left alone …” Chekov sighed again, letting his words trail off. Truth be told, he had thought of a solution, but it was one he really didn’t like. He and Sulu could take opposing shifts, so that one of them could be with Keptin at all times – but that would mean seeing far less of each other, and already they felt as if they had too little time in each other’s private company. Sulu stood up and brushed his cheek with his knuckles.

“Hey. We can work something out,” he promised. Chekov sighed, wrapping his arms around himself and looking over at the puppy, who was completely in his element being fussed over by the crew. He smiled, despite his worries, and took hold of Sulu’s hand.

“OK,” he said. He gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’d better go and rescue him from his adoring public,” Sulu smiled, nodding at Keptin. Chekov laughed softly, releasing Sulu’s hand and walking across to pick the puppy up. Keptin saw him coming and apparently decided that this would make a fun game. He bolted through the legs of the bridge crew. Chekov yelled his name in surprise, then hurried around to cut him off.

“Keptin! Come here!” The dog skidded to a halt, his claws clattering on the floor, and barked at Chekov, daring him to come up the stairs and get him. Chekov took a step closer; Keptin backed off. Behind him, Chekov could see a couple of the science officers getting into position in case he tried to make a break for it again. “Come on, boy – good dog …”

He made it up another step before Keptin decided that he was too close, he turned tail and ran, somehow dodging the hands of the science officers and anyone else who tried to grab him. Chekov gave up trying to cut him off in the circular room and simply chased after him, calling the puppy’s name in vain.

Finally, after two laps of the bridge, Keptin skidded to a halt once again at the top of the stairs and started barking. Chekov snatched him up before he could start running again and held him to his heaving chest.

“ _Bad_ dog,” he gasped when Keptin continued to bark, prompting the dog to look at him with a mournful expression. Satisfied that the puppy was suitably chastised, he looked up.

Spock was standing between the open turbolift doors, his face as expressionless as ever. Chekov swallowed hard and tried to breathe more quietly. Spock raised one expressive eyebrow.

“Ensign Chekov, is that your animal?”

“ _Da_ , sir, yes.” There was no point lying about it. “He was a present from Lieutenant Sulu, Commander.”

“I see,” Spock said, and continued to stare at Chekov and Keptin. After a moment that went on far too long for Chekov’s liking, Spock spoke again. “I wonder, Mr Chekov, whether I might be permitted to touch your pet.”

Chekov blinked at him. “Uhm, of course, sir, if you would like to.”

Spock took a step closer, reaching out and stroking the very top of Keptin’s head with his fingertips. The puppy let out an excitable yip, but he didn’t struggle or try to lick Spock, to Chekov’s relief; he couldn’t imagine him finding dog saliva particularly appealing.

“I personally prefer the feline species,” Spock said when he took his hand away, “But your dog is a very handsome example of his breed, Ensign. Does he have a name?”

“Keptin,” Chekov replied, surprised.

“I see,” Spock said, and Chekov realised that the barest hint of amusement had crept into Spock’s voice. “That would explain your behaviour earlier.”

Then he walked past Chekov and went over to Uhura, leaning down to speak quietly to her. Chekov stared, open-mouthed, after him. A after a few moments, Spock straightened up, Uhura got to her feet and they walked together towards the turbolift. As they passed Chekov, Spock paused.

“Is everything all right, Mr Chekov?”

“Yes, sir,” Chekov breathed, cuddling Keptin closer. “You are not going to tell the Keptin?”

“No. I have no logical reason to do so,” he said, then he carried on into the turbolift. Before he pressed one of the buttons inside, he paused and continued, “I would advise you, however, not to allow your pet to give me reason to report his presence to the Captain.”

“No, sir – thank you, sir,” Chekov replied as the turbolift doors closed, his tongue tripping over the words. Once Spock had gone, Chekov staggered back down the steps and collapsed into his chair, relieved despite Spock’s warning. Sulu got up and came over to kiss his forehead.

“Well, I would never have guessed that Spock’s a cat person,” he said quietly. “At least he liked Keptin …”

“ _Da_ ,” Chekov sighed. “And now we only have to hide him from the Keptin.”

As if sensing that he was the topic of conversation, Keptin stood up on his lap and tried lick Chekov’s face.

***

Chekov had no idea how they lasted to the end of Alpha Shift without being discovered. Between Uhura’s ‘malfunctioning earpiece’ masking the puppy’s whimpers, Sulu’s sudden attacks of ‘Hesperan thumping cough’ when he started barking at Starfleet transmissions on the viewscreen, and Chekov’s various excuses for running off the bridge so that Keptin could do his business, he had been sure that Kirk would realise that something was up. The captain, however, seemed to remain oblivious – although he did all but order Sulu to go to see Doctor McCoy at the end of his shift and asked Scotty to come up to the bridge to fix Uhura’s earpiece as soon as he had a moment. When he finally headed for the turbolift, Chekov let out a sigh of relief and slumped back in his chair, letting Keptin jump down from his lap.

The puppy had spent most of the afternoon playing a rather annoying game in which he tried to pounce on the lights that appeared on the navigation console, inadvertently pressing buttons, distracting Chekov completely and almost revealing himself to Krik every few minutes. He looked over at Sulu and sighed. “I don’t think I can hide him like this again tomorrow.”

“I could do it,” Sulu offered, getting up to let the Beta Shift helmsman take his seat. None of the personnel arriving on the bridge to take over seemed particularly surprised to see a puppy; Chekov suspected that the _Enterprise_ rumour mill had been working double-time today, and wondered if there was a single person aboard the ship – aside from Kirk – who didn’t know about Keptin by now.

Ensign Matthews, Chekov’s Beta Shift counterpart, picked Keptin up as the puppy dashed towards him to say hello, then turned and deposited him on the captain’s chair. “Hey, Chekov – you should let Gamma Shift borrow your dog, then they can see what it’s like having a ‘Captain’ on the bridge when there isn’t an emergency!”

Keptin yapped in what sounded like agreement, and everyone on the bridge except Spock laughed, and even the Vulcan looked as amused as was possible through his customary, stoical mask. Keptin then sat down and tipped his head on one side.

“I believe that the ‘Captain’ can hear something,” Spock said right behind Chekov, making him jump and look around. Again, there was that almost-hint of amusement lacing the Vulcan’s emotionless tones. He looked around at Uhura and saw that she was smiling fondly at Spock, and he wondered if she too had heard it – and liked to hear it – in his voice. He would hardly blame her; he wasn’t sure he could cope with a lover who never outwardly expressed emotion. He took a step to the side and reached out, twining his fingers with Sulu’s and squeezing.

“No, I think he’s just imitating his namesake,” Uhura said, doing nothing to disguise her teasing grin. “Looks to me like he’s perfected the Captain’s favourite expression: confusion.”

Chekov started to laugh, joining in with almost everyone else. A moment later, the laughter died in his throat as the turbolift doors opened and Kirk stepped through.

“Hey, guys – what’s so funny?” he asked, and the bridge fell into a sudden silence. Chekov went white as a sheet as the Captain descended the steps, looking around with a puzzled expression on his face. There was nothing he could do, short of physically throwing himself between Kirk and his dog and hoping that someone would take advantage of the distraction and get Keptin out of sight. Kirk came to a halt at the bottom of the steps and raised his eyebrows, definitely suspicious now. “Okay then. I’ll just grab my PADD and stop interrupting you guys …”

The PADD lay on the chair arm. Chekov closed his eyes and Kirk started to turn. There was no way he could miss Keptin this time. He was going to throw the puppy off the ship, and quite possibly throw Chekov himself in the brig for breaking the rules. He held his breath.

He heard Keptin yap in a friendly sort of way, his tail thumping against the faux-leather of the seat as it began to wag.

“Ensign Matthews,” Kirk said after a moment, addressing the crewmember closest to his chair. “Am I hallucinating, or is that a dog?”

“Yes, sir,” Matthews replied with only a hint of nervousness, and Chekov risked opening one eye. Kirk didn’t sound particularly wrathful, and when Chekov looked across at him he looked more confused than angry. Remembering Uhura’s last comment, he was forced to hastily swallow a giggle.

“OK, can somebody tell me what the hell a golden retriever is doing in _my chair_?” he asked, looking around the room. There was a very small smile starting to appear at the corners of his mouth, despite his attempt at a stern expression.

“Well, sir,” one of the science officers began, his voice shaking with suppressed laughter, “It’s his name, you see. We thought he’d be right at home there, since he’s called ‘Keptin’.”

Kirk’s eyebrows shot up as a ripple of hastily suppressed laughter spread around the room. Chekov felt his cheeks heat up as he started to blush and looked down at the floor, wishing once again that he had thought a little harder before giving his pet such a foolish name. Then Kirk too began to laugh.

“’Keptin’, huh?” he chuckled. “I’m guessing I win no prizes if I work out who he belongs to?”

Chekov looked up and found Kirk looking right at him. His blush returned full force and he looked away again. “Keptin, I apologise – I should not have brought an animal aboard. I will accept full responsibility –”

“No,” Sulu interrupted, stepping forwards and tightening his hold on Chekov’s hand. “I bought him the dog – it’s my fault. _I’ll_ take responsibility.”

“Hikaru, don’t,” Chekov hissed, but Sulu ignored him.

“I believe it was Mister Scott who authorised the transportation of the animal onto the _Enterprise_ ,” Spock said calmly, surprising everyone. Chekov turned to stare at him in disbelief. “And if I am not mistaken, most of the crew have been aware of the dog’s presence and kept it a secret. Therefore, it would be illogical to punish only one person for bringing the animal on board and keeping it hidden, when so many have been involved.”

“You’re telling me that everyone knew about this? Except me?” Kirk asked, slightly incredulous and rather put out. Suddenly, he pressed the communicator on his chest and said, “Kirk to sickbay.”

“What the hell do you want now?” McCoy asked with a sigh, his tone wavering on the edge of annoyance. Chekov guessed that Kirk had been harassing his chief medical officer over the comms. when he had realised that he had left his PADD behind.

“Bones, did you know about this dog?” Kirk asked in a plaintive whine.

“Of course I knew about the damned dog!” McCoy replied, his voice torn between amusement and exasperation. “It’s all my nurses have been able to talk about since this morning. Which reminds me – Chekov, if you’re there: if you want to have him fixed I’m not doing it. I’m a doctor, not a veterinarian.”

“You knew and you didn’t tell me?” Kirk whined.

“Stop acting all betrayed,” McCoy told him briskly. “And stop calling me when there isn’t a medical emergency.”

“But they put him in my chair, Bones!” Kirk said, in a final attempt to garner some sympathy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not surprised they want to replace you, you big baby,” Bones replied, teasing rather than sympathetic. “The dog’d probably make a better job of playing captain than you, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?” Kirk snapped, clearly not amused by McCoy’s teasing and the stifled laughter of the crew around him who were listening in on the conversation. However, before he could get any further, Keptin stood up in the captain’s chair and barked.

“I think, Captain,” Uhura said with a grin, “That that was Dog for ‘Yeah.’”

Kirk raised his eyebrows. “You’re telling me that Chekov’s dog thinks he can run this ship more effectively than me?”

Again Keptin yapped, this time getting down into a playful crouch and wagging his tail in the air. Kirk laughed and went over to his chair, kneeling down in front of it to ruffle the puppy’s ears. “OK, little guy. You’re on. Shake on it?”

He held out one hand and Keptin sat up and extended his right paw accordingly. Chekov raised his eyebrows surprised. “I didn’t know he knew tricks.”

“Looks like your dog’s surprising us all, Mr Chekov,” Kirk replied over his shoulder as he shook Keptin’s paw. Then he turned back to the dog. “You get to command Beta Shift. If you get bored and leave your post, you forfeit the challenge – so feel free to do just that, any time you like.”

Keptin barked in apparent agreement, then leapt forwards and licked Kirk’s cheek. Kirk pulled away quickly, grimacing, then smiled down at the puppy. He took his PADD from the chair arm and turned to face the bridge in general.

“Maybe I was a little harsh when I said no pets,” he said softly, smiling Chekov. Chekov stared back wide-eyed, barely daring to hope. He waved a hand. “You can stop with the puppy-eyes, OK? He can stay! Just make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” He started towards the turbolift then paused in the doorway. “And Chekov? If Keptin is the reason why you performed so badly today, don’t bring him up to the bridge again, yeah?”

“No, sir,” Chekov replied, his delight at being allowed to keep his puppy outweighing his worry about how he was going to keep Keptin quiet while he was on duty. “It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Good,” Kirk replied with a smiled. Then he stepped into the turbolift and was gone. Sulu immediately pulled Chekov into a tight hug, and Matthews came over to clap him on the back. Several others went over to crouch beside the captain’s chair and make a fuss of Keptin.

“But he won’t like being left alone,” Chekov said uncertainly, looking over at Keptin, who was enjoying a belly-rub. Sulu put an arm around his shoulders and squeezed.

“I don’t think finding babysitters – or puppysitters, I guess – will be a problem, Pavel,” he smiled. Chekov smiled back as he watched Spock bend to scratch behind Keptin’s ears. Somehow, he couldn’t help but agree.


End file.
